It's Easy To Understand Ewing's No. 1 Career Goal

Ewing Fully Comprehends Role With Knicks -- On And Off Court

November 05, 1993|By MICHAEL ARACE; Courant Staff Writer

Patrick Ewing has a nickel for every person who has misunderstood him. That's a lot of people. Ewing is a rich man.

He is not in the business of collecting money for misunderstanding. No, Ewing is a basketball player, the 7-foot center for the New York Knicks. He has devoted his professional life to chasing a championship. He has just happened to collect misunderstanding along the way. What are you going to do?

"In general, nobody knows what Patrick's really like," said teammate Doc Rivers. "Because he doesn't play the game. The media game or whatever. He has decided that he is going to play hard and let people judge him for that -- which is what people should judge him for. You know, he's a really nice guy. Really nice."

Not 10 feet away from Rivers, there is Ewing. He has just lifted weights. They must have been heavy.

"Normally, I'm not this pumped," he said. He flexes. He smiles. He has approximately 300 teeth and they are all white.

He is talking to reporters at a college gym in Westchester County, where the Knicks train. Funny. There was a time, 10 years ago when he was at Georgetown University, when he didn't talk much to reporters. And he was misunderstood. Other times, he did talk. And he was misunderstood. What are you going to do?

He talks now.

"I'm still young," said Ewing, 31. "I think age is a state of mind. My body feels good and, hopefully, I'm going to play as long as I possibly can. Definitely, I want to win a championship, but I don't want to wait. I don't want to wait and wait. This is my ninth year and I'm still waiting. Hopefully, we can get it done this year."

The last Knick on the bench would have a chance at starting for almost any of the other 26 teams in the NBA. For this reason, people such as Los Angeles Lakers general manager Jerry West have selected the Knicks as the favorite to win the championship.

This assertion is also a result of Michael Jordan's retirement.

"Man, I'm tired of hearing that," Ewing said. "Definitely,

Michael was the best player to play in the league. But even if he was here, our goal would still be the championship. And I think we have the ability to beat them even if he was here. So, I'm tired of hearing that."

Ewing is tired of that. But not much else.

Aside from the obvious career goal -- has he mentioned anything about a championship yet? -- he is more content than most athletes, or most gardeners for that matter.

He has his charities. For some, such as the Boys Clubs and the Children's Health Fund, he chooses to publicly help campaigns that raise hundreds of thousands of dollars every year. For others, such as the Special Olympics, he serves as more of a quiet force, donating as much time as money.

"I'm just a normal guy," Ewing said.

He has a close circle of friends, a condo in North Jersey, a house in southern Maryland. He has a wife he adores, a 2-year-old daughter and a 9-year-old son, the offspring of another relationship. Ewing is very close with and intensely proud of the boy, who, by and by, is growing quickly.

"I'm pretty easygoing," Ewing said.

He has a specific hanger in his locker on which he hangs his coat before every game. He has his sneakers there waiting for him, thanks to assistant trainer Tim Walsh, who is the only man allowed to move the shoes from the practice gym in Purchase, N.Y., to the front of his locker at Madison Square Garden.

He has his headphones and his music -- reggae and jazz and some other stuff. He listens to tunes before games. At this time, he does not talk to reporters. That is understood.

"I am a laid-back, regular person," said Ewing, who enjoys painting.

He was born on the Carribean island of Jamaica and moved to Cambridge, Mass., when he was 11. By the time he was 14, he was already close to 7 feet, but he was not affluent. To be poor and black and on stilts in Greater Boston is to be prone to being misunderstood at a very early age.

He played basketball. He played hard. He dominated. And his high school team was so good, it was hated. There was one time when someone threw a brick through a window of the team bus. There was another time when Ewing had to simply defend himself with his fists. And another time. And another time. On and off the court. Ewing needed a bodyguard, a karate expert, at road games. He left Boston for Washington.

Three things colored his years at Georgetown. There was an NCAA title, which elated him. There was the death of his mother, which devastated him. And there was the degree he earned in fine arts. The title, he wanted. The degree, his mother wanted for him. He got both. And he still paints.

And he got misunderstood. Georgetown coach John Thompson sometimes begged Ewing to talk more to reporters. Ewing refused.